


cotton candy

by mullethyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (just a little. as a treat.), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angry Sex, Bathroom Sex, Biting, Blood Kink, Frottage, Hook-Up, M/M, Party, Quickies, References to Drugs, Rough Sex, Scratching, Spit As Lube, They're Mean, not in a "we pretend to hate each other to hide our true feelings" way either, the best way to describe the dynamic here is enemies with benefits, they hate each other but they're horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mullethyuck/pseuds/mullethyuck
Summary: The sugar on Renjun’s lips tastes foreign―wrong. Thankfully, it’s a sensation quickly remedied by the next words that leave his mouth. “God, Hyuck. You'd be irresistible if you ever shut the fuck up.”
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 107





	cotton candy

**Author's Note:**

> hey renhyuck nation <3 it's been a while, how y'all been?
> 
> my baby kells wrote some super soft [smut](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578242) which had me in my feels, so naturally it inspired me to write the complete opposite lmao
> 
> i do have a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/18AgxkUttOFSG37Qxy96e7?si=eH1ItR1NRsKP_Y-HXxTzkg) which includes the song i stole the title from but it's more about the vibes than anything else

Jaemin doesn’t bother knocking―just barges through the door with a handful of Smirnoff and a dopey grin on his face, sharp teeth glinting in the flicker of multicoloured lights. Someone in the kitchen calls him over, and he barely spares his best friends a glance before sauntering off to make some god awful concoction of saccharine regret. Jeno, for his part, has slightly better manners.

“See ya, Hyuck,” he tosses over his shoulder as he ambles over to the stairs, climbing down to the basement. He’s digging a baggie out of his pocket by the time he reaches the first step, spinning his lighter in his other hand as he’s welcomed with a chorus of slurred greetings, muted by the thump of the bass pumping through the shitty speakers. He smiles so hard his eyes crinkle into little crescents and then he disappears behind the banister, and that’s the last Donghyuck will see of him all night.

Donghyuck isn’t sure whose house this is, or who invited them to the party in the first place, but he trusts his friends enough to leave them to their own devices even if he isn’t necessarily confident in their surroundings. As long as he’s being forced to stay sober, he’d rather find some other unfortunate designated driver to commiserate with, anyway. Alcohol makes Jaemin even clingier than usual and Jeno only ever rambles about assorted cat facts when he’s high; Donghyuck can only handle so many platonic makeout sessions and lectures on the evils of declawing in one lifetime, and he hit his quota approximately three semesters ago.

He finds the kitchen easily enough, following the electric blue of Jaemin’s hair like a beacon leading to the copious amounts of drink options piled haphazardly on the counters. Donghyuck shuffles through the half-empty bottles of Fireball and tangled six packs of Bud Light till he finds what he’s looking for: the chasers. He pours himself a cup of the first thing he grabs and sips it, grimacing at the tartness. Apparently, broke college kids can’t even afford decent lemonade―not that they drink for the taste, but Donghyuck is too aware of his senses for whatever bitter lemon water this host is trying to pass for a chaser. He takes another swig and wanders off in the general direction of the living room.

The party is well under way, since Jaemin insists that they can never be on time (thanks to a combination of the age old “fashionably late” phenomenon and something about parties being boring for the first half hour while everyone gets alcohol into their system), so it shouldn't be too hard for Donghyuck to blend into the background. He scans the room for anyone who looks equally sober, but a quick survey of the crowd shows it’s not looking all that promising. With the onset of the golden age of Uber, designated drivers are scarcer than ever. Donghyuck’s a dying breed.

He opts to lean against the first empty wall space he can find, which is regrettably close to a couple sucking each other’s faces off to the beat of a Britney song that Donghyuck hasn’t heard in years. Whoever’s got the aux, at least their taste is solid. Parties with shit playlists are the bane of Donghyuck’s existence, regardless of his level of inebriation. Getting trashed can only dull the senses so much, and if Donghyuck had a dollar for every shot he’s done to tune out the grating sound of some overplayed trap beat, he wouldn’t be drowning in student debt right about now. As it stands, he is paying far too much for an education he’s actively neglecting at the moment, and the couple next to him look dangerously close to stripping right here in the middle of the house. Donghyuck nurses his lemonade and tries not to be bitter about his lot in life.

It’s not that bad, really. Last week was Jaemin’s turn to babysit and he got thrown up on _twice,_ so if the worst Donghyuck has to deal with all night is a little heterosexual PDA then honestly he’ll take it over booze barf any day. Naturally, even just thinking that guarantees something more sinister is on the way. Donghyuck doesn’t believe in jinxing, but god or the universe or whoever’s in charge must hate him. He should’ve seen this coming.

 _This_ being none other than Renjun Huang, resident asshole and Donghyuck’s own personal nemesis, strolling over with a wicked glint in his eye and a cup of something obscenely pink in his hand. He takes a sip of whatever bubblegum offense he’s brewed up and says, “Jesus, they just let anyone into these parties,” with a roll of his eyes behind his wire-framed glasses.

Donghyuck returns the gesture, grip tightening hard enough to threaten the integrity of the flimsy plastic of his solo cup. “Yeah, that worked out well for you, didn’t it?”

Renjun huffs out a laugh, just a burst of air through his lips, and it sounds a little like pity. Or it would, if Donghyuck didn’t know for a fact that Renjun is incapable of feeling any sympathetic emotion. “You say that like you’ve ever been invited to a party in your life. We both know you’re only here because everyone loves Jaemin and you get a free pass by default.”

Donghyuck cocks an eyebrow. “Well, I know you’re not here thanks to your charms,” he counters, voice dripping with acid. “So, who are you set on tormenting tonight?” He tilts his head, eyes darting around the room for anyone that looks like Renjun’s type. It takes all of half a second for him to spot Renjun’s intended victim.

Renjun tells him anyway. “Lucas Wong.” He takes another sip of his drink, and the liquid stains his lips a glossy rose. Donghyuck wants to punch him, drown out the pink with a blood red.

He restrains himself, shooting Renjun an exasperated look instead. “I’m not surprised. You always did enjoy pushing anyone bigger than you around.”

“In my experience, big boys like to be manhandled,” is Renjun’s pithy answer. Donghyuck can practically feel his eyes rolling out of their sockets with the force of his exasperation.

He pitches his voice higher, shrill and mocking. “In my experience,” he starts, before reverting back to his normal tone, “you’re a persistent, bossy little bitch. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe they let you have your way so you’ll fuck off?”

Renjun narrows his eyes, threatening. “So? I still get my way, don’t I?” He leans into Donghyuck’s space, crowding him against the wall. “At least I haven’t gotten everything I’ve ever wanted just by _whining_ for it.”

“Right, because bodily forcing someone into submission is so much better,” Donghyuck spits even as Renjun is doing that very thing to him right this moment. It’s probably ironic, somehow, the way his shoulder blades press into the stucco.

“It’s more proactive, that’s for sure,” Renjun shoots back before sipping at his drink with a pointed raise of his eyebrows over the rim of his cup.

Donghyuck stops his eye from twitching, but just barely. “Are you calling me a pillow princess?”

Renjun bares his teeth in a poor approximation of a smile. “No. But hey, if that’s what you got from this conversation then maybe it’s true.”

His eye really does twitch, now. “It’s not and you know it, asshole.”

“Do I?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, challenging.

Some snide remark is halfway past Donghyuck’s lips when an elbow jabs him in the ribs and he belatedly realizes that the couple he’s been sharing the wall with is now much closer than they started. His lemonade goes everywhere, the vast majority of it drenching the front of his Champion hoodie. Fuck, he’s gonna have to wash it now. Renjun hisses out a string of curses, and it’s only then that Donghyuck looks up to see a stain forming on the tops of his thighs, darkening the light denim of his faded jeans all the way to his groin. Some of it splashed onto the hem of his cardigan, which he’s currently holding up with his free hand to glare at the formerly butter yellow fabric.

The cotton of Donghyuck’s hoodie is sticking uncomfortably to his skin, and while it’s not as bad as it could’ve been if alcohol was involved, the lemonade is packed with enough sugar to make it tacky. He grumbles to himself as he meanders off to find a bathroom, setting his now empty cup on a random table as he passes through the living room.

It’s not until he locates the bathroom, courtesy of Mark Lee from sociology, that he notices Renjun trailing behind him. The three of them stand by the door, Mark filling the silence with all his tipsy rambling as Donghyuck and Renjun marinate in half-dried Tropicana. If Mark notices their plight, he ignores it in favour of recounting some gossip he heard from his friend Johnny about a guy named Jaehyun, whoever that is. The only thing Donghyuck deciphers from Mark’s disjointed chatter is that Jaehyun is seriously repressed. Poor dude.

Donghyuck contemplates this stranger’s sexuality crisis for all of ten seconds, and then the door is swinging open and a pretty girl with vivid green hair is pushing past them and back to the party. Donghyuck and Renjun share a look, and they must communicate telepathically somehow, because the next moment, Renjun shoves Mark aside and Donghyuck is rushing to slam the door shut, lock clicking behind them. Mark lets out a resigned, “Not cool, man, I _really_ have to pee,” voice muffled through the wood, and Renjun snarks back that it sounds like a personal problem. Donghyuck is already digging around in the cabinets for a washcloth or towel or anything remotely useful for scrubbing the crusty sugar out of their clothes, really. He finds a couple of threadbare hand towels, turning on the tap and dunking one under the stream of water before tossing the other at Renjun.

Renjun catches it and moves beside Donghyuck, hands brushing as he holds his own towel under the faucet. Donghyuck glares at him only to find Renjun is already looking back, catching his eye, and there’s something familiar in the set of his jaw. Donghyuck chooses not to dwell on it, focusing all his energy on salvaging his hoodie instead. It’s not going well, so far―honestly, lemonade stains should not be this hard to get out.

He gives up after five minutes of attacking his chest with the stupid towel, dropping it onto the counter and turning to reach for the doorknob. A hand stretches out and stops him, grip firm on the prominent bone of Donghyuck’s wrist. “What are you doing?”

Donghyuck looks at Renjun like he’s certifiable. “I’m leaving, dipshit,” he says, frowning down at where Renjun still has him by the arm.

“Like that?” Renjun asks, affronted. Donghyuck just scoffs.

“Yeah,” is all he says. He shakes his hand so Renjun will let him go.

Renjun drops his arm, but he’s still frowning. “You look like a fuckin’ mess,” he says flatly.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. He seems to do that a lot around Renjun. “You don’t look so hot yourself. Maybe worry about that,” he says with a vague gesture to Renjun’s crotch, which is actually mostly clean at this point. Donghyuck wonders what sorcery Renjun used to achieve such an impossible feat, but he doesn’t question it. He’d rather die than ask Renjun for help, thanks. “Also, I’m pretty sure we’re the only sober people here. Who the fuck cares what I look like?”

Renjun doesn’t say anything, just grabs Donghyuck’s shoulder and yanks him back over to the sink. He pushes one of Donghyuck’s pecs, and Renjun may be smaller than Donghyuck, but he’s demanding. Donghyuck sits down without a fight. Renjun procures one of the towels from their general vicinity and starts scrubbing at Donghyuck’s chest with a surprising amount of force. Donghyuck’s pretty sure his skin is chafing.

Naturally, he complains about it. He’s mid-monologue, whining about how Renjun is practically rubbing him raw when Renjun’s hand stutters against his chest, breath catching in his throat almost imperceptibly. If they weren’t so close, Donghyuck wouldn’t have even noticed it. But the space between them is closing by the second, and when Donghyuck meets Renjun’s eyes, all he sees is obsidian laced with something like voracity. “God, shut _up,”_ Renjun groans.

Donghyuck crosses his arms petulantly. His forearms are directly in Renjun’s way, but that doesn’t stop him; Renjun pushes them aside to resume his stain removal, rubbing the fabric hard enough to jostle Donghyuck’s entire upper body. “Make me,” Donghyuck says without thinking, voice acerbic. Renjun’s head snaps up and Donghyuck watches his pupils dilate in the split second it takes him to crush their mouths together.

The kiss is more a clack of teeth than anything―the drag of Renjun’s incisors against Donghyuck’s gums is maddening and addictive all at once. Donghyuck moves to bite down on Renjun’s bottom lip, but he pulls back, just out of reach. Donghyuck feels a growl press against the back of his throat, threatening, but then Renjun is slotting their lips together and the sound gets lost in Renjun’s mouth.

Donghyuck still isn’t sure what Renjun had to drink, but he can taste the cotton candy in every kiss. The sugar on Renjun’s lips tastes foreign―wrong. Thankfully, it’s a sensation quickly remedied by the next words that leave his mouth. “God, Hyuck. You'd be irresistible if you ever shut the fuck up.”

Donghyuck shifts to mouth at Renjun’s neck, voice rumbling into the pulse point of his jugular. “Oh piss off, you love it.” He bites down and Renjun hisses at the prick of Donghyuck’s teeth against sensitive skin.

Donghyuck sucks on what will eventually bloom into a pretty bruise while Renjun snarks, “I’d love it more if you put your mouth to better use.”

Donghyuck sinks his canines into the junction where Renjun’s neck meets his shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. The metallic edge washes out the syrupy sweetness of Renjun’s kisses and the heady taste of his skin. “Is that not what I’m doing?” he asks innocently as he sits back fully on the counter. He’d be the picture of purity if not for his glassy eyes and the bloody spit pooling in the corners of his swollen lips.

Renjun doesn’t dignify him with a verbal response―he’s always been visceral. It’s one of the only reasons Donghyuck tolerates him. If he wants to get thrown around, he can count on Renjun to deliver, always.

A hand wraps around the nape of Donghyuck’s neck, tangling in his hair as Renjun snakes his other arm around Donghyuck’s waist. He’s smaller than Donghyuck, and definitely not stronger, but this is one fight Donghyuck will always concede. He lets Renjun bodily haul him off the counter, pressing one more open-mouthed kiss to Donghyuck’s lips before shoving him to the floor.

Donghyuck’s knees hit the cool tile as his back knocks against the wall, but he doesn’t feel any of it. He’s too preoccupied with unbuttoning Renjun’s jeans, mouth watering as he pulls the denim away to reveal Renjun tenting in his boxers. He palms Renjun through the fabric, wet with a mixture of precome and leftover lemonade that seeped through his pants. Donghyuck rolls his tongue against the head of Renjun’s dick and sucks lightly; it tastes weirdly sour between the artificial sweetener and the salt of Renjun’s leaking cock, but Donghyuck doesn’t care. He’s tasted worse.

“You’re fucking gross,” Renjun says, but it comes out strained. Donghyuck just smirks up at him, running the heel of his hand over Renjun’s shaft again, agonizingly slow. Renjun makes a choked noise and tightens his grip in Donghyuck’s hair.

Donghyuck sits back on his heels to meet Renjun’s gaze. “I’m sorry, would you like me to stop?” he challenges, and Renjun all but snarls.

“If you stop now I will literally break your―” He doesn’t get to finish whatever colourful threat is on the tip of his tongue, because Donghyuck is leaning in to mouth at his balls through his boxers and Renjun is too distracted by the wet heat of Donghyuck’s breath to think about much else. “For fuck’s sake, Hyuck.” Donghyuck takes that for the order it is, yanking Renjun’s boxers off with one fluid movement. His cock hangs heavy in front of Donghyuck’s face, and he sticks his tongue out, kitten licking the slit.

Renjun uses the hand still anchored at the nape of Donghyuck’s neck to press his head forward, dick slipping between Donghyuck’s plush lips as he drags his tongue along the underside of Renjun’s length. Donghyuck finally wraps a hand around the base of Renjun’s cock, stroking lazily while he swallows around the head, and Renjun lets out a groan that sounds equal parts impatient and strangled. Donghyuck gets the hint, sliding back off of Renjun’s dick to readjust before taking him all the way to the back of his throat.

Donghyuck gags a little, but then he’s pulling off to bob his head along Renjun’s shaft while one hand jerks him off, drawing punched out noises from Renjun with every twist of his wrist. The other is braced against Renjun’s thigh for leverage, fingers digging into the flesh harder than is strictly necessary―hard enough that Donghyuck’s blunt fingernails will leave little crescent moons in their wake. Renjun will complain about it later, but right now he’s pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and throwing his head back and that’s all the encouragement Donghyuck needs. He tightens his hold on the muscle of Renjun’s leg and moans around his dick, cupping Renjun’s balls with his other hand.

Renjun tugs at Donghyuck’s hair, forcing him off of his cock, a string of spit connecting his mouth to the head of Renjun’s dick. Donghyuck’s tongue darts out across his lower lip, breaking the spit and the moment, and Renjun is once again hauling him up by the hair. He shoves Donghyuck back against the counter and slots their lips together and he still tastes sickly sweet, so Donghyuck clamps his teeth into the plush center of Renjun’s bottom lip and savours the metallic edge it gives him.

Renjun inhales sharply through his teeth, pressing harder against Donghyuck so every inch of them is touching. Donghyuck is practically bent backwards over the sink, and it’s only when Renjun tears him away from his busted lip that Donghyuck realizes how hard he is, dick straining in his joggers. He licks the blood from his mouth, swallowing as he reaches a hand up to smear a thumb across the split in Renjun’s lip. When Renjun kisses him again, it tastes like rust and rapture.

He breaks apart too soon, coaxing a whine from Donghyuck. “That hurts, you ass,” Renjun says even as he mouths at Donghyuck’s jaw, staining it with carmine. He nips at Donghyuck’s neck, finally moving the hand in his hair to trail down Donghyuck’s side, ghosting over his ribs to land on the divot of his hip bone. His fingertips tease at the waistband of Donghyuck’s pants.

“Jun,” is all Donghyuck can say―whimper, really, it’s so pathetic―before Renjun is tugging his sweats and his boxers down in one go. It takes a little maneuvering with his ass leaning against the counter, but then Renjun is sliding him back so he’s sitting properly on the marble and Donghyuck is kicking off his pants completely, letting them land in a heap on the tile floor. His legs fall open on instinct and Renjun steps forward to fill the space between them, capturing Donghyuck’s lips in another searing kiss, tongue running along the roof of Donghyuck’s mouth as they pant into each other’s space. Renjun’s glasses are knocked crooked in the process, lenses fogging over as Donghyuck lifts them off of his face and sets them on the other end of the counter rather inelegantly. He doesn’t feel the need to be too careful, especially since he knows for a fact Renjun doesn’t actually need them; he just wears fake glasses because he’s a pretentious douche and wants to look smart, or whatever.

Donghyuck is about to make some judgmental quip about it, but then Renjun lunges forward to connect their lips again and his dick brushes against Donghyuck’s head and sends a shudder down his spine, eliciting another less than dignified noise from the back of Donghyuck’s throat. Renjun smirks against his mouth as Donghyuck fists the front of his stupid oxford shirt so hard the top button pops open. Donghyuck grazes his teeth against Renjun’s lips as he shoves his cardigan out of his way and undoes a few more buttons before breaking away and chomping into Renjun’s pec.

“If you don’t stop fucking _biting,_ I swear to god―” Renjun starts, but Donghyuck cuts him off with a hard suck to the bruise rapidly blooming onto his chest. Then he sinks his teeth in again, harder, like he’s trying to tear a chunk out of Renjun’s skin, which earns him a string of expletives that’s creative even for Renjun.

“What?” Donghyuck asks, tongue lapping at the teeth marks in Renjun’s skin. “You gonna bite back?”

Renjun’s hand flies back to the nape of Donghyuck’s neck, pushing his face down so he’s staring at where their dicks are just barely touching with the most excruciating lack of friction. “Spit,” Renjun says, voice dark and commanding. The hand that isn’t holding Donghyuck’s head in place flexes into a fist, forearm contracting with the motion, and it makes Donghyuck’s dick twitch against Renjun’s.

Donghyuck does as he’s told, pooling saliva in his mouth and letting it drip between them, landing wetly on the head of Renjun’s cock, mixing with the precome at the tip. Donghyuck moves to touch―to provide any traction, any relief―when Renjun tightens his grasp on Donghyuck’s hair, stopping him in his tracks. “No,” is all he says, and Donghyuck lets out an annoyed groan, but he braces his hands on Renjun’s chest, holding still. Waiting.

Renjun pauses for a few rapid heartbeats before using his free hand to smear Donghyuck’s spit over their dicks, circling Donghyuck’s head with his thumb and rubbing the slit, his movements infuriatingly slow. He holds his hand up in front of Donghyuck, who obediently spits into his palm, watching as Renjun glides his hand down Donghyuck’s shaft, slicking it up. Then, he’s wrapping his fingers around their cocks, pumping his hand a few times without warning, and the friction has Donghyuck seeing stars.

 _“Finally,”_ he gasps, fingernails finding purchase in Renjun’s chest as he tries to ground himself. “Took you long enough. Shit.”

Renjun picks up his pace purely out of spite, and it doesn’t take long before Donghyuck’s chest is heaving as he gasps out curses with every jerk of Renjun’s hand. Donghyuck can feel Renjun’s heart hammering under his fingertips, can taste the desperation every time he leans in to press sloppy kisses to the corner of Donghyuck’s mouth. At some point they stop kissing altogether, just breathing the same steamy air, Donghyuck occasionally nipping at the scab on Renjun’s bottom lip where Donghyuck bit him earlier. Renjun doesn’t even fight him when Donghyuck reopens the wound, too busy chasing his own high to notice the blood that finds its way dribbling down his chin. Donghyuck flattens his tongue to lap at the miniature river of red threatening to stain Renjun’s pristine white shirt, smudging it over Renjun’s jaw.

Donghyuck comes to the taste of iron and the sound of Renjun’s choked moan, spilling all over the front of his hoodie and Renjun’s hand as his vision whites out. Renjun is close behind, hand clenching on Donghyuck’s neck as he falls apart, trembling between Donghyuck’s legs. Renjun tips forward, knocking their foreheads together as Donghyuck closes his eyes, revelling in his post-orgasm high. It’s only when Donghyuck comes back down that he notices the angry red tracks he’s scraped down Renjun’s chest, blood just starting to bead on the surface of his skin.

Donghyuck drags a lazy finger over the scratch marks as Renjun catches his breath, marring the perfect skin even further. Renjun releases his hold on Donghyuck’s hair to swat his hand away lazily, straightening back up. He looks at his reflection in the mirror over Donghyuck’s shoulder and scowls.

Donghyuck turns to meet his eyes in the glass, and really, he doesn’t know what Renjun’s so upset about. He looks gorgeous all marked up, bruised and bloody. Just how Donghyuck likes him. Donghyuck smiles at Renjun in the mirror, and all it earns him is a curt, “You could at least _try_ to control yourself.”

Donghyuck turns back to face the real Renjun. “That _was_ me controlling myself,” he says, and then adds a smug, “You should know that,” just to be ornery.

Renjun does know, so he can’t argue. He just rolls his eyes and grabs one of the towels off the counter, wetting it to wipe his hand and clean Donghyuck’s hoodie as well as he can. It doesn’t do much, but he gives up quickly and tosses the towel into the corner of the room in favour of stuffing his dick back into his pants, straightening himself up and grabbing his glasses. He slides them onto the bridge of his nose, and Donghyuck grabs him by the collar of his shirt.

Renjun looks like he’s about to ask what Donghyuck is doing, but then he’s refastening the buttons on Renjun’s shirt for him and tugging him closer for a well-placed bite to his clavicle and then Renjun is properly pissed. “I literally hate you,” he says from a foot away after taking a massive step backwards so he’s out of arm’s length and can button his shirt in peace. “You’re the worst.”

Donghyuck hops off the counter to pick up his pants, slipping his boxers back on and stumbling around with one leg in his joggers as he says, “Fuck off.” Renjun barely waits for Donghyuck to pull his pants all the way back on before he’s swinging the door open and flipping him off on his way out.

Mark Lee is still standing out in the hallway, looking considerably more sober than the last time Donghyuck saw him. “Uh. Can I pee now?” he asks, face on fire. He won't meet Donghyuck's eyes.

Donghyuck ignores him anyway, checking his appearance in the mirror one last time. His hoodie has several questionable spots on it, a smattering of bruises covers his neck and his hair is one giant knot, but he’s got a dopey smile on his face as he steps through the doorway, gesturing for Mark to enter. “Yeah, sure. It's all yours.” Mark gives him a wary look as he brushes past him, shutting the door the second he crosses the threshold.

Donghyuck just spins on his heel and makes a beeline for the kitchen. He needs some more lemonade.

**Author's Note:**

> this was my first attempt at smut and i'm exhausted how do y'all write this shit on the regular?? #respect
> 
> anyway i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mullethyuck) if you're into that hmu :3


End file.
